


In the Moment

by laEsmeralda



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This exploration of character takes place during the filming of certain memorable scenes in <i>The Two Towers</i>. Originally written in 2003.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of impure fiction. The few times I have written RPF/RPS, it is with the idea firmly in mind that I am still writing completely _fictional_ characters that derive from celebrity personas. It is the extension of the film work that interests me; how must the act of artistic creation influence the artist?

In his haste to deliver the news to King Theoden, Aragorn nearly bolts into Legolas who stands waiting with purpose in his path. The elf's expression stops him in his tracks, a combination of ferocity and half-smile.

"Le abdollen," Legolas chides Aragorn, looking him over, pleasure and mischief growing in his face. His nostrils flare as he smells the blood and knows the wound is not mortal. "You look terrible."

The quip startles Aragorn out of his preoccupation, and he laughs. He clasps Legolas tightly by the shoulder. Legolas does not laugh. He is smiling, but his eyes burn into the ranger's, eliciting surprise and confusion. 

Legolas lifts his hand as if to give Aragorn something, and both look at that hand for a moment. Aragorn reflexively extends his open palm, and Legolas places an object carefully within it. The man's bloody fingers close around it, cupping the elf's hand as well and squeezing. Almost as if burned, Legolas withdraws.

Aragorn sees the Evenstar. His eyes lift. There is a moment between them in which much is said, without words, which could not bear waiting any longer.

"Hannon le," Aragorn thanks the elf.

Legolas inclines his head and steps aside.  
*******

"What was that?" It was Aragorn's voice, not Viggo's. The hand that fell on his shoulder was authoritative in a way that Viggo was not.

Instinctively, Legolas and not Orlando half-turned, but he caught himself, changed his voice and his manner. "It was a perfect take. For once. Peter loved it." He grinned.

One voice melded into another, Aragorn softening to Viggo. But Viggo didn't soften. "It wasn't how we rehearsed it."

"I know. I'm sorry. I had an idea and talked it over with Fran yesterday. We agreed it was better not to tell you, or Peter. Thought we'd try it. It could always be dropped if it didn't work."

"Explain to me what we just did."

Orlando looked at him for a long moment. "I can't talk to Aragorn about it. Wait until after we've changed. Okay?"

But after they'd changed, after the long process of removing wigs and ears and makeup, the hobbits had come to invite themselves once again to Viggo's house. Which meant others would follow. 

They had Viggo surrounded and Orlando sighed with relief. He wouldn't yet have to talk about what had happened today on film. He thought about it though. That little bit of character note had changed everything for him about Legolas and Aragorn. He could stop if Peter insisted, but he didn't want to be asked to stop. It was the right thing.  
*******

The house kept filling with people. Orlando kept filling himself with wine and water, alternating. Legolas did not have a hangover, nor dark circles, nor dehydration. Legolas didn't have a beer belly. Fucking elf was fucking up everything. But Orlando couldn't help but respect him, even so. No choice but to persevere.

Once or twice, Viggo passed through and was friendly, but there was tension Orlando wasn't used to feeling between them. The normally congenial host was angry. Quietly angry. There weren't any nasty elf-human comments, and the absence was a sure sign of trouble.

At one point late in the gathering, Viggo went into the walk-in closet in his bedroom, looking for one of the bottles he had brought with him especially for Sir Ian, as the man was going home so that Gandalf could get some beauty sleep. He was rummaging when he heard voices, Orlando and a woman. He paused and listened. Lani.

"Shhh, kid. What happened to the stealthy elf?"

"Has the night off." There was a little hitting sound, a hand smacking on denim. "Okay, okay!" Orlando hissed. The bedroom door clicked shut.

"You sure about this, luv?" Lani asked.

Orlando laughed, low and quiet. "I think I'm supposed to ask you that."

Viggo knew this was the moment to make a noise, alert them to his presence, and leave. He didn't.

"Nah. No need. It's been far too long a dry spell, and assuming you can handle a fast one and keep mum about it, I'm good."

"Where?"

"That chair'll do nicely." The thick Maori accent didn't hide the urgency in her voice. Then, a giggle. "But you're so slender--I'm a little afraid I might hurt you, maybe you wanna be on top?" she teased.

"I'm stronger than I look. Go for it."

There was a rustle of clothing and the sound of a wrapper. Then, a zipper. Viggo closed his eyes. He shouldn't be here.

"Ah, not at all a disappointment," Lani chuckled.

"Are you always this frank?" There was a little hitch in Orlando's voice in the middle, and Viggo could only imagine why.

"No point talking around it, kid, is there?" And then she moaned. 

So did Orlando. And that sound went straight to Viggo's groin. He leaned against the closet wall as the sounds increased despite the muffling.

"Your thighs are fabulous," Orlando said, shakily.

Lani laughed, "The blokes make fun of them, all that orc fighting has turned me into one of them."

"No, it hasn't," said Orlando in that earnest tone of voice that slew people. Viggo flinched.

For several minutes, there was only breath, quiet moans, and the slide of skin.

"Don't be offended I don't kiss you," Lani whispered, and Viggo could hear in her breath that she was close. 

"I know, it's noses instead," Orlando groaned, not sounding at all offended, and Lani came.

And Viggo just had to look. Through the door crack, in a flash, he saw what he could not later shake, though he turned away just as quickly as he looked... Orlando's hands on Lani's generous ass, the length of him thrusting into her as she arched closer to his chest, their upper bodies still clothed. But it was Orlando's face, mid-orgasm, that was better than any porn Viggo had ever watched.

He trembled against the wall as they quieted. He had just—on purpose—watched his friend come. Wasn't the elf, either, couldn't chalk it up to that.

"Thank you. I sooo needed that." Orlando was grateful enough that Lani chuckled. 

"Not like you should have any trouble getting laid, Man."

"Actually, I do. I really shouldn't be messing with crew either."

"I won't tell if you won't." More rustling. "Especially since it was my idea and you were too drunk to resist me," she laughs.

"Not so. Not too drunk," Orlando protested.

"Nah, you're right. Mother, but you'd be fun for a weekend, kid."

"Any time."

Lani left first, practically whistling. When she was gone, Orlando sighed. To Viggo, the sigh sounded absolutely knackered, as Orlando would say. Viggo heard the zipper again and Orlando headed for the door. Viggo almost stepped out from his hiding place to grab his arm, but he didn't.  
*******

The next day, Viggo carefully approached Orlando while they were themselves.

"Can we talk? Back at my place this afternoon?"

Orlando looked skittish. "Sure." He fidgeted. "You're going to insist on getting the back-story, I take it?"

Viggo nodded. "We've got two more conversation scenes and a whole other film to go yet. If this is the way Peter wants it, I have to understand. Unless, of course, it's unrequited."

A slow smile spread over Orlando's face. "Did you see the dailies?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe you should."  
*******

Viggo did. "Definitely not unrequited," he muttered to himself as he went to his car afterward. "What _was_ that?" 

He realized upon reflection that his feeling of annoyance just might have arisen from the fact that Orlando, and not he, had struck upon a natural and quite interesting character note for both of them.  
*******

"It came to me from trying to get the reaction they wanted to Aragorn's fall over the cliff. Fuck all, I wasn't moving them right with the grief of a friend or even a brother. So I thought about it some more. It lacked physicality, Leggy was too fucking cerebral."

Viggo nodded. Orlando had hit upon the problem with the morning of takes.

Orlando took a slug of Viggo's whisky. "So I decided to see how it worked if he experienced a body loss. A realization that he will never touch his friend again--not even his corpse--and that is almost the greatest pain for him." He swallowed more of the drink. "Almost." Orlando shrugged. "I tried it, but the body loss that he felt was not at all what I had come up with on break. Surprised me. Peter went for the take anyway, and so I went to talk with Fran."

After all the takes Orlando had put up with for that scene, Viggo didn't want to argue with him. It had only fallen into place when Orlando returned from a fifteen minute break, smelling of cigarettes, looking resolved, and the exchange with Bernard had finally been approved. But Viggo hadn't noticed anything at the time but grief and loyalty, and a subtle something that had been missing. 

"Hey, I meant to tell you this before, but I know you had to shoot that with Aragorn standing right there behind camera. Had to have been tough. I would have left if I'd thought of it, but I was curious, and we were reshooting warg stuff after."

"It's okay. I'm supposed to be an actor, right?" Orlando was annoyed.

"Body memory, huh? Tolkien was all about platonic love. You understand that concept, right?"

"Fuck off." Orlando said, easily, knowing Viggo was teasing. "This is modern people's take on Tolkien. It's there, in the text, Legolas' overwhelming devotion to Aragorn." Orlando's fingers drummed on the table and he poured more scotch for both of them. "Look, I'm not saying they've been shagging, for fuck's sake. They've shared warmth in the dark and the cold, Legolas has had his arms around Aragorn while he slept at least a couple of times. He loves him. That's all. It doesn't have to be more than that."

"But it is." Viggo's shadowy eyes flicked to Orlando's and he mumbled more than usual. "That's obvious from Aragorn's reaction." Viggo spoke of it objectively. 

Orlando grinned. "It was fucking interesting. I didn't know how he would react, actually. Or you. You might've burst out laughing." 

Viggo shook his head. "No, it was the right thing. I had to go with it. So I thought about it after, and the same image came to me of them sleeping in the wild. Funny how you conveyed it without telling me. Aragorn has been awake those nights, he's felt that body curled around him, protecting him, that hand over his heart, the same one that returns the jewel. Maybe even something more visceral. Arousal. Then, when Legolas gives back the Evenstar, Aragorn sees it in his face for the first time..." Viggo trailed off. He was suddenly looking into the elf's eyes. "Don't do that," he said, defensively.

Orlando scowled. "Do what? I'm just listening."

"Become him."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to." He looked away. "That's it. The whole story. I talked with Fran, and she liked the idea, looked some things up. She said it brought another dimension to the scene. Legolas gives Aragorn back his link to his true love, even though Legolas loves him too, and his eyes and hands say it. Kinda sad, isn't it? But fuckin' loyal. That's the elf for you."

"It was great acting, Orlando. I watched the dailies today. Blew me away. You pulled me right along with you."

"That's a first. Usually, I'm running to catch up with you. Why do one take when I can fucking do twenty, right?" Orlando made fun of himself, then grew serious, "I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I wasn't angry. Just bewildered."

Orlando raised an eyebrow. 

"I couldn't stop responding." Viggo looked sheepish. "You made me totally hard, you know."

Orlando's breath sucked in with surprise. "Wait, no, that was the fucking elf. And Aragorn's hard on." It wasn't that he hadn't noticed. Legolas had carefully blocked Aragorn from view until it couldn't be seen any longer.

"I don't think so. Yes, they connected, but... shit. This is a crazy conversation." He stood. "Listen, I know you're straight, don't worry."

"Aren't you?" Orlando's eyes followed him as he stood.

Viggo grinned. "Mostly. Very much mostly." He took a whole shot of whisky at once. "Stand up, Orlando, please." 

Kicking the chair a little in his awkwardness, Orlando complied. Definitely not the elf. And Viggo moved in. Orlando took a step back.

"Shh. Just need to try something." He hypnotized with his voice as he often did, and Orlando stood still. Viggo closed the distance between their chests. 

His heart pounding, Orlando focused on the scar on Viggo's upper lip, for the first time realizing that they both had one. "There's a good distraction," he thought, watching the scar come closer. But he wasn't prepared at all for Viggo's hands. One connected with the back of his neck, the other with the small of his back, warm over his thin T-shirt, at the very same time that the scarred lip touched his. A bolt went through him, and he gasped, to the effect of meeting Viggo with open lips.

Viggo the overly soft-spoken artist kissed with remarkable authority, and Orlando had to answer. From the swiftly vanishing perspective of observer, Orlando watched in horror as he did the most girly thing he could imagine at that moment--both his hands went to Viggo's beard. Not to his shoulders, not his waist, but his jaw, fingers sliding into the scraggly beard, holding the face close, his own shoulders scrunching up.

And then, the sounds started, both of them making hungry, growling noises at each other. Viggo took a couple more steps, effectively dragging them against the kitchen wall and pressing Orlando against it. His tongue flicked softly into Orlando's mouth and was unexpectedly well received. Viggo groaned. 

Orlando broke the kiss, panting. "We can't, we fucking can't."

Viggo's eyes were fierce as he forced Orlando to look at him. "We can."

"It'll ruin everything, Mate." Fifty other reasons ran through Orlando's mind, none of which had to do with not wanting to continue.

"No. It won't. _They_ already feel this way."

Orlando blinked at him. "But us. And professionalism. My first real project. I don't wanna blow it." He swallowed convulsively. "I really rate you, Viggo, but I'm not in love with you or anything." It pained him to be so blunt.

"Good. Look, there's no star and starlet here. No politics. You aren't being immature. And I won't stop being your mate. I like you too much for that. Still won't go bungee jumping, though." He grinned.

The fact that Viggo was arguing for the opportunity to continue kissing him finally struck Orlando, along with his own desire for it to continue. "Oh, fuck," he said, and pulled Viggo back in. He allowed himself to feel the bursting heat in his chest, the delicious slide of tongues. His hands went to Viggo's hips and he pulled them tight to him. That settled it. He moaned at the contact of now hard cocks through jeans.

"Jesus," Viggo breathed, moving to bite on Orlando's neck, "make that sound again."

Orlando couldn't help it. He wasn't following instructions or anything. His hips shifted of their own volition, creating some truly shattering friction. Viggo's fingers found the edge of his T-shirt and slipped under the waistband of his jeans, digging into the flesh of his rump as far as they could reach.

"I can make you feel so good. I want to watch you come..." Viggo rumbled, biting down on the word 'again' that almost slipped out, and felt instantly guilty. He should confess, before things went any further. But he didn't want them to not go any further.

"Not fair," Orlando protested, trapped against the wall, his face flushing hot with response to Viggo's voice. "Don't make this just about me."

"It isn't," Viggo replied, "it's just about me, what I want." His mouth moved back to the succulent neck-flesh, but he still murmured against it as his hips mirrored Orlando's movement. "We can just do this, and I assure you, it will be mutual."

"Or?" Breathless as he was, Orlando was determined to understand the full offer.

"Or, you can let me lead a little, let me take you back to my bedroom and work you over." 

Orlando's knees buckled a bit, his weight shifting harder against Viggo. But he had to know. "Are you saying you don't want me to touch you?" This was going to be a problem.

"God no," Viggo said. "But you don't have to."

"I'm not a chicken." Orlando's anger flared. "Not afraid to have a go at new things."

"I know. And I'm not a new sport to try." Viggo's eyes flashed as he pulled back and looked at Orlando.

"No," Orlando replied, "you're just the only guy hot enough to get through to me. That a problem for you? I just found out myself five minutes ago. Reeling a bit from it actually. Can you stop fucking trying to box me in?"

For a few blood-boiling seconds, they regarded each other. Viggo took a deep breath. "You're absolutely right." 

Orlando braced himself to be released, for Viggo to push back, run a hand through his own hair, and reach for a drink. So he was very, very surprised to feel Viggo's hand slide between them to squeeze him instead. 

"Sorry. I'm feeling guilty, so I'm patronizing you. Don't mean to. Let me try this another way." The hand moved slowly, torturously. "I'm doing this to stop you from kicking my ass when I tell you what I have to tell you."

Orlando held tight to Viggo's shoulders. "What?" he gasped.

"I was in the closet."

"What, you aren't any more?" A solid attempt at humor, though he could hardly think.

Viggo didn't laugh and cleared his throat. "Um, literally, I was rummaging around in the closet last night when you came into my bedroom. I didn't know what to do."

"Oh God!" Orlando's embarrassment was immediate and overwhelming, and he sagged against the wall. "Oh, God."

"I'm sorry, I should have done something." Viggo didn't stop moving his hand, especially since he could feel things going soft. "But I couldn't."

"The whole time?" Orlando's eyes were squeezed shut.

"I loved it," Viggo breathed. "It was an accident, and there wasn't any good way to end it. Then, I couldn't stop thinking about it last night, your voice... your face."

"You saw?" Orlando's voice rose in panic.

"Don't quit on me now. Don't," Viggo said. "I had to look, just for a second. That's when I knew it wasn't the elf. Not just the elf. It's you." His lips moved down and behind Orlando's ear, brushing, trying to draw the heat back into Orlando's body. 

A shiver went through Orlando and he angled his neck into the touch. He kept his eyes closed, remained silent, trying to let go of his mortification. He thought back over the tipsy encounter with Lani. Hot. Lots of fun. Respectful. Deeply needed. Perhaps nothing to be mortified about. She certainly wouldn't be embarrassed, though she might kick Viggo's ass on general principle.

Viggo felt that the softening had stopped. That happily, it might even reverse. He nuzzled along Orlando's neck to his shoulder, smelling him, sunny and soapy, but with the faintest hint of nervous sweat that made Viggo thrum with the anticipation of other scents. His unoccupied hand went back to cradling Orlando's head, his fingers idly rubbing, signaling another kiss to come. He slid his cheek past Orlando's, grazing and teasing as he made his way back.

When they kissed this time, Viggo was in position to feel Orlando's fast response. Viggo made sure to reward him for hanging in there. With his guilty conscience cleared, he burned hotter. 

Orlando broke free again. "I vote for the bedroom after all."

"Good choice," replied Viggo. He let go of Orlando's crotch in order to get a grip on his hips. He kissed him again and then hoisted him, hoping Orlando was with him on this and not all reactionary and insulted. To the contrary, Orlando assisted with a little hop and wrapped himself around Viggo, arms and legs, exactly as mentally instructed. 

Even with all the horsing around, Viggo had never lifted Orlando. The elf was always carrying hobbits--backpacking hobbits actually, and swinging Arwen around. So, Orlando's lightness surprised the hell out of Viggo, and his arms shifted tighter on instinct. No wonder Lani had joked. But the body filling his arms was solid, the muscular legs squeezing his waist were strong. Nothing soft or feminine about it. Without breaking the kiss, he headed for the bedroom--slowly, swaying a little from lack of attention to walking.

Orlando was uncomfortable with being lifted and carried, but he had voted for the bedroom and a package deal had been stated. He just hoped that Viggo didn't find it unmanly. Pressed against him this way, it was obvious that Viggo wasn't the slightest bit turned off, but Orlando still worried right through the fabulous kiss. Right through the low vibration of Viggo's voice box as he hummed his approval. 

Viggo kicked the door shut behind them, closing out even the possibility of the world. The blinds were drawn tight, but the room was still full of afternoon sun. Viggo had left the skylight uncovered. The once-cherished window had become 'the goddamned inconvenient skylight' during night shoots. But its blinds were wide open now.

"Why all the light?" Orlando asked as Viggo let him slide to his feet.

"Forgot to close it. Last night, when I couldn't sleep, I wanted to look at the stars." He spoke close to Orlando's neck, his hands sliding down to tuck under the T-shirt and begin to lift it. He felt goose bumps form and follow his fingers up Orlando's ribs. "I wanted to look at the stars while I tried not to think any more about you coming." 

Orlando sighed, a deeply sexual exhalation. As Viggo had hoped, the heat was back in full force. He wanted to ask if his voice had always had this effect on Orlando. But then, Orlando hadn't noticed the attraction until a few minutes ago. Neither had he. Until last night.

"Did it work?" Orlando breathed.

"Not a damn bit," Viggo answered, lifting the shirt away at last, and looked at the familiar torso in a new light, as erotic territory. He waited to be asked for more information.

Orlando leaned down to softly bite his Adam's apple, and to lick and suck it. His tongue flicked and laved, and Viggo's cock strained against his jeans in response. Finally, Orlando let him go and moved to his ear. "Did you get to sleep at all?"

"Yeah."

Orlando's hands slid up the outside of Viggo's arms, tantalizing. "What happened in between stargazing and sleeping?"

There it was. He froze up for a minute, wanting more poetic words than he could find.

"I'm only asking, because I had to. Even after Lani. Before I could sleep."

"Was it me, or Aragorn?" 

"Neither at first, just this nagging feeling that I had to get off. I was thinking back over the scene, and it was impossible not to feel Legolas' response again. Then, it was your voice, all pissed off, asking me 'what was that... explain to me what we just did.'" Orlando grabbed him by the sides of his head and kissed him breathless, backing him against the bed before speaking again. "I took it all out of context, listened to your voice, and that was that."

As they breathed again, Viggo stroked thumbs over Orlando's cheeks and nuzzled his ear. "Screw poetry. I must have fucked my hand for a half hour. I wanted it to last. I kept hearing your moans, and seeing your head thrown back, your eyes half closed. Each time I got close, I stopped, until I couldn't stand any more. Is that what you wanted to know?" 

He looked up finally into Orlando's eyes and his heart stopped. The expression there was so predatory, so starving, that for a moment, the tables were entirely turned, and Viggo wanted nothing more than to be fucked into oblivion by the man standing before him. A small noise escaped him.

"I believe I was promised a working over," the warm voice countered, and Orlando stepped against him.

But Viggo had seen the power, was taken by it. The need to control the encounter had left him. He encircled Orlando with quivering arms, clambering back upon the bed and drawing the young man over him. His hands smoothed along bare shoulder blades and ribs and back muscles, venturing at last under the waistband to caress the softest skin of his rump. "Orlando," was all he could say, and he didn't feel the slightest bit silly saying it.

Fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt, and he lay still while they bared his chest and stomach. Orlando reached for his shoulders and kneaded the muscles there. His mouth followed, shoulder to throat to collarbone to nipple until Viggo strained upward, bowing his back. Orlando's fingers trailed down, through Viggo's navel, dealing with button and zipper, until he was stripping the jeans away and grinning about the lack of underwear.

It seemed to take the longest time to pull the jeans down Viggo's legs and off, and Orlando kept his eyes to the task. Finally, the garment hit the floor, and Orlando's eyes swept back toward Viggo's and stopped on the way. His lips parted, a small and simple gesture, but Viggo throbbed to it. 

Orlando's eyes flicked to Viggo's for a moment as he reached to touch the waiting cock. Another moment of seeing the hungry beast made Viggo shiver. He whispered to Orlando, "How is it that we haven't felt this before? In better than a year." Orlando's hand stroked over him, firm and easy.

"I was wondering that myself." Orlando dipped, ready to take him in his mouth, and with a monumental effort, Viggo stopped him with an unceremonious palm to his forehead. 

"Wait. Too wet," Viggo panted, "condom."

Orlando looked up, suddenly contrite. "Sorry, carried away. I'm careful... but I haven't sucked cock before." The evil glint was quick to return.

Viggo grinned. "I'm careful too, but let's be sure, okay? I recommend the unlubricated variety. I think you've already found the nightstand stash..."

"Had my own, actually. Just tell me that they aren't in boxes labeled by activity, given how orderly your fucking house is." He turned to open the nightstand drawer, inadvertently presenting his ass along with the long curve of his back.

"Hey, would you mind getting naked? Since you spoiled my plan for taking your clothes off myself, it's the least you can do." 

"They're all neat in here," Orlando laughed.

"I don't like to spoil the moment with long delays," growled Viggo.

"Ohh, are we getting impatient?" Orlando tossed Viggo a condom and slid off the bed. He had a bottle of lube in his hand that he pointedly placed within reach. The glow that had just started to leave Viggo's belly returned.

Orlando could feel that his cheeks were flushed. Despite his bold banter he was nervous as hell. He felt skinny, all elbows and hipbones and knees, next to Viggo's muscle and sinew. He lowered his eyes as he undid his loose jeans and dropped them, unable to maintain eye contact. Taking a shaky breath, he slipped off his boxers as well and stepped out. 

The body on the bed moved to kneeling in a flash, and Orlando's head came up just in time to be pulled into a fierce kiss. Viggo's hands were all over him then, he couldn't keep track, but they were maddening. Something had again shifted the dynamic between them, and Orlando relaxed into Viggo's insistence.

He felt the brush of Viggo's sparse chest hair, fingers pushing in to feel the contours of a fully mature male body. To Orlando, Viggo felt like raw power harnessed into creativity and gentleness. The kiss was pulling the restlessness from him like Viggo was feeding on Orlando's energy and giving back a steady tension. Orlando managed to get a knee onto the bed, and then Viggo flipped him and rolled with him, pressing him into the mattress.

Their legs tangled and Orlando groaned as their naked bodies touched full length for the first time. Viggo was biting along his neck with nips and sliding teeth, both hands locked on Orlando's ass as he thrust against him. 

The back and forth and slowness of before had been tantalizing and wonderful, but this was better and Viggo had known it would be. Orlando let go of Viggo's back and lifted his arms overhead, touching the headboard. He would give the man what he had asked for--there was time for everything. Or could be. He closed his eyes.

As Orlando lay back and arched up, Viggo lifted his head. "God, you're perfect. Your rhythm is just right." His hands moved to Orlando's chest, caressing where the ribs showed through his skin. He moved to straddle him, to balance, so that he could run his thumbs down the centerline of his body, letting his fingers trail along beside.

A little hiccough emerged from Orlando, and his chin raised further, his shoulders pressing into the pillows. He heard the wrapper crack open, and resisted the urge to know what was happening. Surely, the other man could see his heart thundering under his ribcage. Then, he felt himself being slicked with lube, Viggo's hands making him squirm with pleasure. He couldn't help but open his eyes when he felt the condom being unrolled on him, over the lube. Viggo was watching him.

"Better this way. For this." 

The pressure on his legs eased as Viggo shifted between them, and Orlando lay as passive as he could while Viggo took him in his mouth. At first, the heat and the touch were simply a great relief for the long-sustained need. But Viggo knew what he was doing with his hands and mouth and soon Orlando's eyes closed again and the first long moan emerged. His legs opened further. There was an answering sound of encouragement from Viggo. Without looking, he knew Viggo's eyes were back on his face. Orlando still felt self-conscious. 

Viggo could tell Orlando wasn't letting go. He moved again and wet his fingers with lube, felt Orlando tense when they slid behind. He pulled his mouth away to speak softly. "I'm not going in. Don't tell me you aren't afraid--that isn't the point." 

His mouth returned, his left hand stroking and twisting, sliding the latex, the fingers of his right hand slipping back and forth through the cleft of Orlando's ass. He wanted to keep talking too, knowing now that his voice evoked a particular response. He wanted desperately to tell Orlando how much he liked his cock, that it was just right, that he loved that it didn't quite fit into his mouth but didn't choke him either.

The colors behind Orlando's eyes were brightening and shifting more rapidly. Breath issued from him in hard bursts. He began to flex into Viggo's touch, without conscious effort, and each movement increased the onslaught of pleasure. It was amazing how many different things Viggo could do at once, and how much each small thing mattered. Soon, Orlando vocalized differently to each touch. 

"Ummm." Viggo managed around the tightening mouthful. This was even better than what he had seen last night, better than he had imagined. He debated, selfishly wanting to pull away and use just his hands so that he could see everything, less selfishly wanting to take Orlando where he had never been and needing his mouth for that.

"Ohh. Viggo." Orlando was writhing, finally just feeling. 

Viggo shuddered at the sound of his name. He was ready for release himself at the slightest touch, his body warming, opening, and craving the aggression of the primal creature he had glimpsed. The debate ended and he settled on a compromise. He sat up in his crouch, rolling his fingers and tugging harder.

"Orlando," he purred the word. Finally, he had a clear view of the changing face. It was important to him not to say objectifying and trite things about beauty that Orlando would never believe anyway. "You make my heart hurt. Not to mention my dick." The little responsive cry made Viggo twitch. He probed more firmly, causing another noise. 

"Close," warned Orlando with a moan.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Viggo asked, dangerously low, almost inaudibly.

Orlando whimpered, and against his side, Viggo could feel a muscular thigh begin to shake.

"I've always been a top at heart, but I swear to God, Orlando Bloom, I want you to fuck me as hard as you can."

It couldn't be said that Orlando screamed, it was more like the yell Viggo had once heard when a huge wave wiped the kid out and crushed him under its weight, but with a new dimension. Orlando's hips thrust up hard, and Viggo watched the first moment of peak as long as he dared, burned Orlando's ecstasy into his memory. Then, he covered the pulsing cock with his mouth again and swallowed in time with it, as if he were able to drink in what couldn't escape. There was another cry, with his name in it, and it seemed that the peak went higher before it started to subside.

Orlando dissolved into the blinding white light, didn't care if he ever came back. 

Eventually, he did. He felt Viggo's arms around him, his cheek against Viggo's chest, the beard grazing the end of his nose, the absence of what would now be a clammy condom. He didn't want to speak, but his eyes fluttered open.

Sensing it, Viggo shifted and looked down at him. "You okay?" He was shocked at the depth of bliss in the brown eyes.

Orlando nodded. He tested his voice with a little hum. Not ready yet.

Viggo smiled. "You know, I was a bit let down that you didn't say 'fuck' even once. Must not have been any good."

Swallowing heavily first, Orlando finally spoke. "Shit, you've found me out. I'm not naturally profane. Please don't tell on me."

"That's so damn sexy, actually," Viggo's hand slid up Orlando's belly, "I don't think I want anyone else to know."

Orlando sighed. "You know, I've not had nearly enough sex in the last few years, but some of it has been memorable." His voice was getting its strength back. "And I've never, ever come like that." He frowned. "What'll I do if you don't want to mess around with me again?" 

Viggo laughed. "Small chance of that." He was answered with a wicked grin and could tell that the indomitable Orlando was on his way back. "Satisfied for now, then?" 

"No way, Man, you got what you wanted. You still owe me."

"What is it, exactly, that you think I owe you now that I've worked you over as promised?"

Orlando's hand slipped around Viggo's semi-hard cock. "To let me touch you." 

Semi-hard became very hard within a few seconds. "I suppose you want me to make good on my teasing."

"Nah. I plan to finish what you interrupted. I'm a bit intimidated to display my unskilled labor after what you just did. But I'll figure it out."

"I meant it." Viggo dipped to kiss him. "I wasn't just saying it to get you. But I think it got you."

"You could read me the newspaper and get me as it turns out. I've always liked your voice, you mumbler, but somehow, it's become connected to my cock in the last twenty-four hours."

"Hmm, like your eyes." 

"I never looked at you that way before, that's all." Orlando's hand was caressing by now.

"I never talked to you that way before. Shame." Viggo tried not to be disappointed that the boneless creature snuggled against him seemed in too good a mood to be fierce. But his fingers did seem to have a natural intelligence for what Viggo liked.

"We can make up for lost time." Orlando's energy seemed to return in a rush and he sat up. Playfully, he rolled Viggo to his back.

"You're quite something for a guy who's never messed around with men."

"Did I ever say that?" Orlando grinned. "I just said I'd never sucked cock."

"Well, actually..." Viggo tried to think.

"I haven't," he interrupted, laughing, "but you should see your face. This isn't some kinky virginity thing for you, is it?"

Viggo laughed. "God, no, I actually prefer experienced partners--far less responsibility that way."

"Let's see if I learned this right." Orlando poured lube in one palm and smoothed it along Viggo's erection. He gave a little hitch with his wrist that took Viggo's breath. With the other hand, he reached into the nightstand for another condom and cracked the wrapper with his teeth. The whole time, he kept Viggo's gaze, and the other man watched, rapt, as his eyes changed, playfulness fading, hunger starting to show.

Viggo bit his lip and groaned softly. The hand and eyes combination was lethal, and he had been aroused for a long time already. "Forget about all the shit I give you. You're amazing, the way you throw yourself into everything. I admire you."

Orlando's expression shifted to surprise, then he gathered himself and simply accepted the compliment. "Thank you." He tried to convey his gratitude with his hand as well. 

"Slow down a little or this is going to be over fast."

"You've been holding off too long," Orlando said sympathetically. 

"And you're hard again."

Orlando winked at Viggo and finally slid the condom onto him. With his mouth.

"Fuck," the word tore out of Viggo. "Where'd you learn that?" An enticing tongue licked the remnants of powder from Orlando's lips and Viggo was jealous of it. 

"A woman did it for me once. I thought it was wicked hot. After I scraped my brains together, I asked her to show me how. It took two seconds. Amazing."

There was that playfulness and zest again. Orlando wasn't smooth or sophisticated, but restless and goofy and earnest. Viggo wondered what would happen to transform the experimenting kid into the confident aggressor he had glimpsed. Not that he would mind at all letting the experimenting kid have him either.

Orlando lay on his side with an arm across Viggo's legs, and wrapped a hand around his cock, holding it steady so he could try out his lips and tongue. His other hand splayed on Viggo's abdomen, palm rubbing.

"Oh, yeah," sighed Viggo. Unlike Orlando, he didn't close his eyes, he watched himself being mouthed. He couldn't resist the dark, cropped hair either, and one hand trailed through it, caressing. He kept the other to himself so that Orlando wouldn't feel guided or pressured. 

Being a human and not an elf, Viggo had not only escaped orders to shave two or three times a day, he was allowed to wear less than a 30 sunscreen. Orlando enjoyed running his fingers along the brown skin, playing with Viggo's navel in the process.

Viggo made a mental note to find out if Orlando's belly button was an erogenous zone as well. He also made sure to express his appreciation, squirming up to follow the fingers and mouth. "Good," he said, "really good."

Orlando pulled him out, "Okay for a novice effort?"

Viggo groaned. "Nothing novice about it. More, please."

The encouragement worked, and Orlando returned even more enthusiastically to the sucking and licking. He started kneading Viggo's thighs as well, which spread to give him better access.

"You are so fucking hot that I'm still trying to understand how I didn't see it before." Viggo decided to try the voice approach again. "We have the whole day and night off, Orlando. Think about it. Start to think about what I could do to you between now and tomorrow morning." He was rewarded by a whimper that transmitted through his cock. "What you could do to me."

That train of thought did not help Viggo maintain composure, but he kept going. "I can't wait to shower with you, I just found this handmade awapuhi soap, very rich, and I can imagine what it would be like to lather it all over you."

Orlando grunted around his full mouth, and something in that sound made Viggo look. The long slim curve of body was punctuated by a dark reverse curve of erection, and Orlando was reaching for it. 

Viggo intercepted the hand. "Let me." He began to stroke with the softest of touches, paying attention to Orlando's responses. "If you were soapy, I could touch you without any pulling or snagging, just sliding, and I think the curve of your ass would feel particularly good in my hands."

The eyes connected with him, then. Looking just the way he had wanted. He wondered if Orlando was actually capable of hurting him with that ferocity. He watched, hypnotized, as Orlando raised his head to prop it on one hand while the other just toyed with the head of Viggo's cock. 

"You're asking for it, you know."

Viggo grinned broadly. "I most certainly am. You gonna give it to me?"

"Yes."

The single word resonated through Viggo's chest. Orlando folded up then unfolded onto his hands and knees and began crawling up Viggo's body, nothing awkward about him now. Heavy in its fullness, his cock just barely grazed Viggo's skin. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"It doesn't matter. It'll be fantastic."

Orlando lowered himself along Viggo, taking his mouth hard. He kept his eyes open with growing awareness that this eye-to-eye thing was the thing to do with Viggo. The electricity sparking in the green eyes was reward enough for overcoming his desire to shut his own. Viggo wrapped arms around him and rolled him to his back, then delved into the nightstand himself. He came back with another condom and yet a different kind of lube.

Orlando nuzzled and licked wherever he could reach as Viggo popped the top on the lube and started to coat his fingers. Orlando stopped him. "Let me," he mimicked with a smile. Viggo nodded and rolled them back. 

With overly careful fingers, Orlando smoothed the creamy stuff into Viggo's skin. 

A look of deep concentration momentarily supplanted the expression of lust, as Orlando felt his way along. Viggo didn't care: normally less than thrilled by anal play administered by either gender, he was finding himself swiftly drawing to the begging point. Orlando found his confidence again as Viggo relaxed and pressed back against him. He pushed inside a little. Viggo gasped, and he loved that Orlando didn't hesitate or draw back.

"More." He reached for the condom and managed to get it out of the package. Orlando slipped his middle finger in just to the first knuckle and twisted it. "Holy Christ," Viggo gritted out.

Orlando leaned very close to Viggo's mouth. "I do this to myself sometimes, but only if I'm ragingly horny."

Viggo's skin prickled all over in a definite precursor to orgasm. He had to talk to stay on track even if the subject matter made things worse. "You ever go in any further than that?" Orlando shook his head. "Remind me to show you something later. Your fingers are long enough. Of course, you might not come out of your room for a week."

"Less controversial than not coming out of your house all day or night," Orlando said teasingly, remarkably able to have a normal conversation with his finger inside Viggo.

"You're having a personal problem. I'm listening, comforting you." Viggo winked.

"Why me?"

"I'm low drama. Everyone knows that."

"Really?" The finger slid deeper, and not gently, making Viggo suck in his breath. "We'll see how low the drama is when I have my cock buried in you."

"Promises," Viggo chided, sliding latex over the source of threat, but his pulse pounded. Then, he applied lube, making sure to twist and rub more than necessary, watching Orlando flush down his chest and across his shoulders. "You can unleash for me, I won't break." He whipped a tissue out of the holder and held it up. 

Orlando withdrew and wiped his hand. He tossed the tissue aside and Viggo swore the brown eyes were glowing. Orlando grabbed him by both shoulders, pinning him back, and lowered his head to suck a nipple--hard. He bit down softly, his tongue busy, then took solid nips all over Viggo's chest, finally settling on the other nipple. 

Voice shaking already, Viggo gave him reassurance that he liked what was happening. 

Orlando pushed a sinewy bicep back and attacked Viggo's armpit. At the same time, a hand found Viggo's cock and squeezed it hard. Viggo exclaimed and Orlando's mouth moved down his ribs and then back to his lips. 

The kiss was brutal and kind at once, Orlando's lips forcing his mouth open because Viggo wanted it that way, and the invading tongue was light and gentle. Viggo arched up, catching Orlando's chest against his, his hands sliding down to cradle the coveted rump. Orlando backed against the hands to be held tighter, and the kiss went on. At the natural end of it, Orlando went back to Viggo's Adam's apple and played with it until Viggo's shoulders twisted against the bed.

Then, Orlando rocked back on his heels, and grabbed his penis. His eyes didn't question, he didn't ask, and Viggo's knees fell back as if on command. Guiding himself, Orlando made a short thrust and partly withdrew, then pressed on, past the tightest point. He stifled a groan.

It did hurt. So did running with two broken toes. So did busting his knuckles in swordplay. So did freezing his ass off in the simulated rain with no sleep. Far less rewarding than this. Viggo grunted and concentrated on relaxing. His body had felt so open and ready, the thought of Orlando pounding into him had held nothing but pleasure. He was unprepared for the unpleasant part.

Orlando could see that it hurt. But Viggo was all about overcoming limitations, and Orlando could also see the arousal building higher in Viggo's eyes. Something savage rose in him, and he thought it must be possible to fuck Viggo right past the pain and into bliss. He thrust harder, finally sliding all the way in. Viggo pressed his own hips up, meeting Orlando with considerable force. 

"Yes?" asked Orlando.

"Yes," Viggo hissed. "Harder." He reached down and pulled the condom off himself, flinging it away.

A wave of heat broke over Orlando at that, and he got a better grip on Viggo's hips. "Careful what you ask for." The next few strokes constituted a pounding, and Viggo cried out louder with each one. Orlando was beginning to have doubts, when he felt the almost painful tightness around him relent a little, and Viggo moaned like he was already coming. 

"God, yes," Viggo breathed, "exactly that."

"I'm fucking you, Viggo. But this isn't as hard as I can yet." He thought it was a very good thing he had already had an orgasm. His back ached, and he ignored it in favor of the most relentless slow build he had ever felt in his cock.

"What are you fucking waiting for?" Viggo's eyes narrowed at him. 

"Ask me." Orlando shifted his shoulders forward, taking more of his weight on his arms so his hips could rock more freely. At the next thrust, Viggo almost shouted and Orlando faltered.

"No. No, don't stop, that was perfect. You hit... just the right angle."

Orlando tried again. Viggo's legs opened wider, which Orlando would have not thought possible. "Okay, I'm asking," Viggo gasped. "Fuck me harder."

Gathering his knees under him, Orlando curled the strength of his legs and torso into each thrust. "I can't spare a hand to touch you." 

"Keep your hands where they are. I won't need hands. Not even mine." To emphasize the point, Viggo ran his hands up Orlando's arms and down the long slide of his back to Orlando's ass, and he stayed there to feel the powerful muscles working pleasure back into him.

"That's hot," Orlando panted, dizzy with too much breath and arousal, "I can make you come without anything touching your cock?" 

"Fuck me harder, damnit, and find out!" 

"That's it, tell me again."

"Fuck. Me. Orlando." 

Summoning his last increment of strength, sweating, praying for his second wind, Orlando rocked into Viggo so hard he knew he was bruising himself. He was pulling nearly all the way out and slamming all the way in with each thrust, straining to maintain the pace. 

The approach of Viggo's orgasm was loud and incoherent, exactly what Orlando had hoped. No fine words, no swearing either, just sweat flying and head tossing and sounds that meant the soft-spoken man's throat would be sore later. Viggo drew his knees back almost to his armpits in a display of unexpected flexibility.

"Go, Viggo. That's it, come for me," Orlando rumbled, and to Viggo, his voice sounded not like twenty-three year old Orlando, but the mature Orlando who didn't yet exist. This was Orlando in his full strength and power, whom Viggo found just as irresistible as earnest, tender Orlando. And come he did, the veins visibly pulsing in his neck with involuntary effort. 

Overcome with the sight and sound, as well as the sensations of being pulled deeper into Viggo's body, Orlando felt his last moment of control pass. He threw his head back and poured all his energy into the vortex. He shuddered and shook, but his hips held fast to Viggo through the last of both their pulses.

"Ah. Ow." Various points of pain were registering with Orlando at last, and he could only imagine that Viggo was worse off.

"Relax, kid," breathed Viggo, knocking his arms out from under him and pulling him to his wet chest. "I'm fine." 

Orlando realized how easily Viggo took his weight, breathing as if he had nothing on top of him. Warm lips nuzzled into his neck. Without the strain on his arms and back, Orlando was getting comfortable. Sleepy. "Shit, Viggo, I'm afraid I'm about to sack out on you."

"A nap sounds perfect. And then, I'm going to feed you until you burst. And then, I'm all about getting you in the shower with me."

"Don't feed me too well, I can't get bigger, you know, not for another five months at least."

Viggo felt a jab of sympathy and admiration for the discipline. "I won't spoil your diet. Hey, I hate to bring this up, but we have to do this slightly awkward thing now where you have to come out of me."

Orlando's head lifted, his eyes big and sleepy. At that moment, Viggo was sorely tempted to say something trite. He kissed him instead, a languid tangle of lips and tongues. And reached between them to slide Orlando free and strip away the condom. 

Handing him tissues, Orlando also gave him little kisses with each one, then helped to wipe away the extra lube and other fluids. Cleanup accomplished, Orlando nestled along Viggo's body and tucked his head on his shoulder. "Is this okay?" he asked, worried about being clingy. 

"Everything's fine. I like afterglow, don't worry." He kissed Orlando's forehead. And sighed. "Damn, that was great."

"Ummm," concurred Orlando, already mostly asleep. "Have to remember to thank that fucking elf."

Viggo smiled as he closed his eyes.  
*******


End file.
